


Descending

by blissblossoms



Category: Produce 101 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissblossoms/pseuds/blissblossoms
Summary: The rules were simple. Once Woojin entered the Underworld, he would lead Hyeongseob through the pathway out, but Woojin could never, under any circumstances, turn back and look at Hyeongseob before exiting. — Hyeongseob/Woojin, Greek Mythology AU





	Descending

**Author's Note:**

> the extremely obscure, unnecessarily sad jinseob greek mythology au that no one asked for

Woojin stood in a meadow made entirely of gold. The grass tickling beneath his bare feet, the sky spanning endlessly above, and the boy smiling directly across from him, all golden, as if eternally bathed in the light of the sun. The world around Woojin was silent yet so alive that he could sink his fingers into it and come back with a fistful of immortality.

The boy across from him was still smiling, holding within him a force that leaks through his body in rays of golden light. “Woojin,” he said, voice rustling with the trees.

“Hyeongseob.” His name flowed from Woojin’s mouth like water.

Like a puppet, as if his limbs were controlled by strings, Woojin made his way to Hyeongseob, filling up the space between them with their warmth. When they came close, that was when things happened in pieces: Hyeongseob’s hand on Woojin’s cheek pulling his face closer, the taste of Hyeongseob’s breath bittersweet in Woojin’s mouth, the heady scent of roses seeping into the air even though there was not a rose around, and the golden brilliance of the entire scene flickering, then fleeing all at once.

The beautiful world crumbled before his eyes and took Hyeongseob along with it. The light inside of Hyeongseob was out, rendering his skin, hair, and eyes ghostly pale. The previous heat of body against body was now a cold indifference, leaving Woojin to collapse into himself in a shuddering heap of skin and bones and loss.

“Woojin,” came Hyeongseob’s faint voice, “come save me.” What was left of Hyeongseob turned to ash and was easily carried away with the wind.

 

Woojin woke up sweating. Eyes hardly accustomed to the darkness, he squinted and managed to make out the 4:37 on the nearby clock. He touched his hand to his neck, ran it through his hair, and brought it to his lips, as if to confirm that he was really alive. Yes, Woojin was very much alive, with effective bodily functions and all.

That was the fourth time Woojin had that dream this week. He let out a deep breath in hopes of quelling his racing heartbeat. Maybe it was strange that he called it a dream; when he had told his grief counselor about it, she had instantly classified it as a nightmare. To Woojin, though, it was not a nightmare—any time he had the chance to see Hyeongseob’s face again, well, that could only be a dream come true.

His fingers were still tracing his lips. The taste of Hyeongseob lingered in his mouth, and Woojin wondered if he pulled the taste out, Hyeongseob would accompany it. Woojin laughed though there was nothing funny about it, the sound scraping against his throat.

Hyeongseob died two weeks ago. For two weeks, Woojin dreamed about him.

Hyeongseob wanted Woojin to come save him. What else could Woojin do but comply?

 

The rules were simple. Once Woojin entered the Underworld, he would lead Hyeongseob through the pathway out, but Woojin could never, under any circumstances, turn back and look at Hyeongseob before exiting. If he did, Hyeongseob’s soul would be sucked straight back into hell with the rest of the souls that weren’t lucky enough to have someone willing to guide them out. Thankfully, however, there were no rules against talking. As Woojin led the way out of the Underworld, Hyeongseob spoke softly behind him. His voice was tinny, like a sound trying to squeeze through a telephone line to reach the receiving end, distorted in some places. Nevertheless, anything was better than two weeks completely devoid of Hyeongseob’s voice.

“I’m just so glad you found me,” Hyeongseob said. “Soon we’ll be home together, Woojin, I can feel my soul coming alive again.”

Woojin smiled dryly, even though Hyeongseob could not see his face. “We still have a long way to go,” he said. The timber of his voice here in the Underworld was strange, unnaturally loud. “Keep on talking, though. It’s comforting.”

“Of course,” replied Hyeongseob. “You know, your voice is coming through really weird. I think it’s because you’re a living person in a place meant for the dead. Your presence here shouldn’t even exist, so the Underworld doesn’t know how to process your voice.”

“Your voice sounds weird, too.”

“Hm,” Hyeongseob said through static, “I guess it’s just different on both ends.” Both ends, the living and the dead end, two things that were never meant to meet. Woojin continued on, savoring the feel of Hyeongseob’s gaze on his back.

 

“How have the past two weeks been?” Hyeongseob asked during a lull in the conversation.

Woojin pursed his lips together, unsure of how to answer. “Well, not to stroke your ego or anything, but everyone’s really heartbroken that you’re gone. Were gone,” Woojin said.

“Yeah. Not really an ego booster.” Hyeongseob gave a noncommittal laugh.

“Tell me about the Underworld,” Woojin said.

“It’s strange, actually, it’s not at all what I would have imagined. When you think the Underworld, you think of, like, eternal damnation, or something. There is Tartarus, of course, but only the truly terrible souls are cursed to stay there. The rest of us are all floating around here, just chilling.”

Woojin couldn’t help but let out a loud guffaw, because only Ahn Hyeongseob would describe his experience in the Underworld as “just chilling.”

“Wait, actually, I forgot,” Hyeongseob said. “Some end up in the Elysian Fields, which is basically heaven. Mostly heroes and, like, saints or something. Here, coming up on our left, you can see it.”

Woojin lifted his head to view the Elysian Fields, and was met with the blinding landscape of his dreams. The gold meadow where he stood with Hyeongseob until it disintegrated, laid out directly in front of Woojin’s widening eyes. Even from such a great distance away, Woojin felt the warmth of the immortal sun enveloping his body in impossible light. But Woojin could also feel the inevitable sadness that accompanied losing someone seep into his veins like water dripping into a drain, never mind that Hyeongseob was directly behind him and they were on their way home.

Tearing his gaze from the Elysian Fields, Woojin continued walking forward, focusing on Hyeongseob’s presence behind him.

 

They reach the entrance, or in their case, the exit, of the Underworld after a period of time that feels like an hour, but probably was five minutes. It was only a few more steps until Woojin officially crossed the threshold into the living world, and then he would finally be able to see and touch Hyeongseob again, this time outside of a dream.

“Oh, good, is that the sun?” Hyeongseob’s voice had returned to its usual clarity, and Woojin allowed himself to smile in relief. Basking in the feeling of the air on his skin, as the Underworld had been a pure vacuum of space, Woojin squeezed his eyes shut and turned around to reunite with Hyeongseob.

“No, Woojin, please don’t—” Hyeongseob started to plead at the same time Woojin’s eyes fluttered open. While Woojin stood a safe distance out of the Underworld, daylight and shadows playing on his skin, Hyeongseob was unmistakably still inside. A jolt of pure ice erupted in Woojin’s stomach, and the two boys scrambled towards each other, desperate to feel the other before Hyeongseob’s soul returned, lost to the Underworld for eternity.

The next sequence of events happened in fragments, just as in Woojin’s dreams: Hyeongseob’s hand wrapped around Woojin’s wrist, Hyeongseob’s body growing paler and paler until it became translucent, Woojin able to do absolutely nothing but watch as he lost he love of his life for the second time. It was as though the Earth and the Underworld had frozen into a momentary winter as Hyeongseob lingered between both realms. Hyeongseob cried out in despair, fingers latching on to Woojin’s hand, as if he were a boat anchored to a dock. It was too late; Hyeongseob’s cries were blurring around the edges.

One second Hyeongseob was there, clinging on to Woojin for all his soul at the entrance of the Underworld, and the next Woojin was upright in bed, soaked in sweat. The place on his wrist where Hyeongseob had grasped burned as if set alight by fire. He glanced at the clock, 5:12. Shaking, Woojin felt around his nightstand blindly for his cell phone, dialed the number of his grief counselor, and shoved the phone between his shoulder and cheek. As the phone rang, Woojin cradled the arm touched by Hyeongseob in his other hand, careful not to put too much pressure on the wound.

“Hello?” Woojin rasps, after the other line picks up. “I think I had a nightmare.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not completely sure if i'm satisfied with the way i ended things & there may be a lot of typos since i literally copied and pasted from word right after writing.
> 
> thanks a lot for reading this! please comment telling me what you think!


End file.
